


One Wish

by Garver



Category: Katawa Shoujo
Genre: F/M, Neutral Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garver/pseuds/Garver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After graduation, Hanako leaves Yamaku and Sendai, abandoning her old life for a new one in the big city. Five years later, Lilly succumbs to stomach cancer. At her funeral, Hisao runs into an old friend, and something rises from the ashes of their pasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Wish

Lilly’s passing was all so sudden. One day, she was with us. And now, she was gone. Even though we – the doctors, her family, and I – had expected it for months, it wasn’t any easier to bear.

Stomach cancer. Stage three before they caught it. They did their best, but we could only watch in horror as it completely ravaged her body. Once it had spread into her liver, there was nothing more to be done. She had her death sentence, and all we could do was fulfill all her last wishes. She wasn’t in any pain at the end. They loaded her up with morphine just to make sure she could go in peace.

Hanako wasn’t there by her side when she left. She moved to the big city shortly after graduation, claiming she needed a change. Both Lilly and I thought it strange at first, considering how bad she was around people. But there was no changing her mind. She firmly believed that it would be good for her. And so we said goodbye, at least for a short time.

That was five years ago.

We didn’t hear much from her in those five years. She sent us both a letter midway through the second year since we had seen her, detailing her new life. She had met a man named Eiji, and they began a relationship. Her education was going well, and she ended up choosing a path in social work, focusing mostly on young children. I guess she felt that she could relate to them, having been in their shoes at one point.

Part of me wonders, even now, what might have changed if I hadn’t gone into her room that day. What if I had followed Lilly’s advice, if I had let her be? Would she have killed herself? Would we be together? I sincerely hope for the latter, even today. Reading about her time with Eiji only served to break my spirit. It was then that I realized I never looked at another girl quite like I looked at Hanako.

So many things could have been done differently. Hindsight is 20/20, right? We always look back on the past, aching to change the future.

But enough about the past. Today, we gather to celebrate a life, one taken from us as quickly as she came into our lives.

Akira and I are traveling together after I picked her up from the house she and her sister were living in. The place has been a wreck for the past week or so, without Lilly’s attention. They started living together not long after Lilly finished her studies, just before the diagnosis. Neither of them married, and Akira’s age makes it hard for her to date anymore. “No one wants an old maid, Hisao,” she says as we round a curve in the road.

“Oh, c’mon, that can’t be true,” I respond, taking care to keep my eyes on the road. “You’re successful, intelligent, attractive…”

“And none of it means a damn thing, just because I’m 30 now.” She takes a sip from her drink can, continuing to stare straight ahead.

“There has to be a guy out there for you. I can’t imagine there not being.”

“If there is, he’s definitely not in Japan. Might just take up that offer from my dad to work with him in Scotland. Marry a nice Englishman or something like that.” She downs the rest of her drink, crushing the can in her grip before cracking the other she brought along for the trip.

“Should you really be drinking before the funeral?”

A laugh erupts from her stomach. “Kid, I’ve got enough tolerance to handle it.” She slurps off the top before continuing. “Besides, with  _my_ family, I’ll need it.” Point taken. I’ve never met the rest of the Satou extended family, but they aren’t exactly the sanest bunch around, from what I’ve heard. At least her parents seemed nice from what little interaction I had with them at Lilly’s deathbed.

Everyone here is dressed in the standard attire: men in black and white suits, women in black dresses and kimonos. Even Akira, as masculine as she is, wears a long, loose-fitting black dress. “I meant to ask,” I start. She turns her attention to me. “What’s with the getup? I figured you’d fight tooth and nail to wear a suit.”

“Mom’s request,” she tells me before we step into the building. “I’m not a dress fan, but I figured I could at least appease her. Plus… it’s my sister, y’know? I want to leave things right.” Lilly’s passing was the hardest on her. Akira once remarked how they were more like mother and daughter than sisters after their parents left permanently for Inverness. I imagine this is much like losing a child, in that regard. Or, at least, a best friend.

“I understand,” I say back to her.

We head inside, surrounded by a crowd of people that neither of us know. “Dad always knew how to throw parties and make connections,” Akira remarks, a snide tint in her voice.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this a party.”

“Hey, there’s free food. One step closer already.” I actually appreciate her attempts to lighten the mood. She’s never been the serious type. “Go help yourself, I’m gonna say hi to my folks.”

I nod and head to the kitchen, the smells of freshly prepared pastries already wafting through the corridors. Surprisingly, very few are gathered around them. How do these people resist such tempting treats? I spot a sign next to the table on which they sit, written in both English and Japanese, “Family only.” Oh, that’s why. Well, I’m not blood family, but I don’t think anyone will mind if I yank one of these cakes….

Sitting at the small table, I start to eat away at my prize, flipping out my phone and scrolling through a news feed. It serves its purpose to take my mind off of why I’m here, at least. Absorbed in the stories and articles, I only catch a faint patter of footsteps. An airy little voice, followed by a tug on my pant leg: “E-excuse me, mister.”

I look down to a short little girl, no more than three years old. Her hair is a dark violet, eyes light gray. The features on her face are familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on how. “Yes?” I respond, mouth still slightly full of cake. “Can I help you?”

She kicks her feet back and forth, holding her hands behind her back. “I… I was just w-wondering if I could… have some cake?” I assume that she’s just an extended member of the Satou family, probably on the Japanese side based on her hair color.

I break off a piece of my pastry and hand it to her. “I don’t see why not.” She accepts it graciously, a smile etching into her dimpled cheeks.

“Thank you, sir!” She heads toward the door, racing quickly down the corridor and into the main procession room.  _Cute kid_ , I say to myself. She leaps into the arms of a woman bearing the same dark hair that she does. Part of me wonders if… maybe if that would be her. But that’s silly, isn’t it? Worry about who is here, not who might be here. It strikes me that I haven’t signed the guest book, so I swiftly finish my pastry and head over to the pedestal bearing the small booklet.

I scan across the names already listed, just to see who is actually present. One of the names stands out. Was I right? Did she actually come?

‘Hanako Ikezawa.’

My eyes dart around the room. A glimpse of that girl from earlier catches my eye, gripping the same woman’s dress. The woman’s hair extends down to her waist. She’s talking to Akira, who seems excited to see her. Like a long lost friend. It’s worth a shot, I suppose.

I approach the girls. “Um… Hanako?”

She turns to face me, that signature web of scarring crawling across the right side of her face. Her pupils close up. “Hisao…,” she whispers.

I look at Akira. “E-excuse me, Hanako, I need to talk to Akira.” She nods, and I pull Akira away from her and into the network of corridors. Once satisfied that Hanako isn’t within earshot, I pinch at the corners of my eyes.

“Something wrong?” she asks. I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic, rhetorical, serious, or what.

“Yes!” I bite back. She reels back, flinching at my response. “Sorry, didn’t mean it to come out that way. Just… what is Hanako doing here?”

“What do you mean what is she doing here? She was Lilly’s best friend.”

“But how did she  _know_? I didn’t tell her anything, and I’m pretty damn sure Lilly didn’t, either.”

“I told her.” …you  **what**. “I thought she deserved a chance to pay her final respects.” I lean up against the wall, sighing heavily. “Don’t tell me you thought I’d let her miss out on this.”

“To be honest, yeah, I did.”

“Are you still uptight about seeing her? It’s been five years, Hisao.  _Five. Years._  You’ve had plenty of time to cope with losing her as a lover, and it was your own damn fault in the first place for friend-zoning yourself.” I clench my eyes shut, hoping to drown out her words. She responds by grabbing my arm and dragging me back toward the main room.

“Hey, hey, where do you think you’re taking me?”

“Back to make you talk to her. She’s standing there, she wants to talk to you, and you damn well know it. Time for you man up for once.” Oh, goddammit.

She practically throws me back into the room, and I stumble to regain my footing. Hanako’s already taken her seat among the audience, eyes glued forward as the little girl with her earlier plays around her feet. I approach them slowly, my feet almost shuffling along the floor. She doesn’t take notice of me until I speak. “…Hanako?”

Her neck cranes to lock eyes with me, that same wide-eyed look in hers. “May…,” I continue. “May I sit with you?” She smiles and gives a slight nod, much like the shy girl that I used to know from high school. I take a seat next to her, and the girl with us calms down and takes a seat on her far side.

“So…,” I start, “how have you been?”

“Um… fine. We just moved into town, and Akira called me about Lilly a few days ago. It was… hard. I didn’t expect it.”

“None of us did, really. She got the six-month sentence, and at that point we just wanted to make her comfortable.”

“Why… why didn’t anyone tell me that she was on her deathbed? I would have come to see her.”

I think for a moment, rubbing my chin. There wasn’t really a reason, I guess. It didn’t come to mind, and Lilly never mentioned it. Now that I think about it, it’s strange that Hanako wasn’t on her bucket list, as close as they were. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I… see.”

Maybe I should try to lighten the mood. “So, who’s the girl?”

“Oh, yes. This is my daughter, Aki. Say hello, Aki.” The girl just clings to her mother’s sleeve, hiding behind her slim frame. Hanako giggles. “She’s a bit shy, but she’s very sweet.”

“Sounds like somebody else I know.” Her face turns red, brushing off my comment. “Who’s the father, if I might ask? Must be one lucky man.”

Her expression sours, as if just the thought of him brings her down. “He’s… not around anymore.”

I don’t respond, nor do we talk again until the funeral starts.

The ceremonies proceed as they should. A man of the faith gives a short eulogy, talks about her religion and the afterlife, and then leads us in a small prayer. They lift Lilly’s casket and load it into the hearse for delivery to the crematorium. We all step outside, and Hanako grabs my attention before I get into my car.

“I’m not going,” she says. “I can’t bear to watch that.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable. I need to go pick up Akira and take her home after, though.” She offers me a hug, which I graciously accept. I whisper, “It was good seeing you again.”

“Why don’t you come by my place later tonight?” she asks. Is this some lewd invitation, Hanako? I thought you were above such things. “Just to talk. I want to fix things. I’ve already lost one friend, I don’t want to lose another if I can help it.” Guess that clarifies it. Glad I was wrong.

“Of course,” I respond. She pulls a slip of paper from her small purse, clicks a pen, and writes down the address. I tuck the note in my pocket and step into my car as she walks away.

I lean my head back on the seat and sigh. Today just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

* * *

 

I’m standing outside Hanako’s door. Funny, some years ago, I was in a similar situation: a complete nervous wreck, worried about what might happen within these walls. But this time feels different. First of all, she invited me. She said that she wanted to talk, that she wanted to try and patch things up after Lilly’s death. I can’t say I blame her. It’s been a long time since we last saw each other, and the funeral wasn’t exactly the best place to catch up.

Reluctant knocks rap on the wood of her door. I can’t walk away now, not without looking a total fool. As if it was possible to look otherwise anyway.

The tumblers in the latch twist and turn, though they seem to struggle. A light, tinny voice greets me from the cracked opening. “H-hello?” She sounds just like her mother.

I bend down, putting my hands on my knees. “Hello, Aki. Is your mom home?” She nods. “Can you get her for me?” Another nod, and she heads back into the dark of their apartment.

“Mommy!” she cries. “The man from the funeral is here!” I guess that’s one way to describe me.

I invite myself in, removing my shoes and placing them by the door. Hanako’s apartment is small, quaint. Big enough for three people to live comfortably, though one has gone away. Her living room is decorated with a black sofa along the wall, facing toward a small television and entertainment center. I notice a few picture frames sitting on the sides, encasing photos of their little family. One of the panes is cracked along the man’s face, spidering across to Hanako’s. My fingers graze along the deformed surface. “I’m sorry, Hanako…” I whisper.

“Sorry for what?” I turn to see her standing in the opening to the living room from the entrance, wearing a set of lounging pants and a loose t-shirt. Aki clings to her leg, hiding behind the pale figure.

I remove my hand from the picture. “Nothing.”

As I walk over to Hanako, she pats her daughter on the head, smiling. “Aki, why don’t you go get ready for bed? Mommy will be up in a minute to tuck you in.” The little girl nods and rushes up the stairs, leaving us alone in this room.

“She’s adorable,” I remark. “Just as shy as you were all those years ago.”

She giggles, one of those things she never really did at Yamaku. Five years has done a lot for her. “I’m very proud of her, though,” she responds. “She’s just a bit timid, is all.” Extending her arm, she invites me to sit on the sofa with her. “Let’s talk.”

I oblige, taking my place on the far cushion away from her. Despite her wanting to bring us closer together, I don’t want to seem like I’m desperate for companionship. Even though I definitely am. Lilly was one of the last friends I had left, and now Hanako magically comes back when she leaves? Seems almost a bit too good to be true.

“Before we get too into it,” she says, “let me go put Aki to bed.”

“Too… into it?” She glares at me, catching where my mind went with that pretty quickly. My face heats up. “No, no, not what I meant!”

She just laughs. “I know. Be right back, Hisao.”

As she heads up the stairs after Aki, I start to think about why I’m here. Even though she supposedly just wants to rebuild all the burned bridges, I can’t help but feel that there’s more to it than that. Why did it take Lilly’s funeral to really bring us back together? That worries me. I know that she’s been struggling recently… for years even. Can I really pull her out of that?

“Hisao.” Her voice is but a whisper, standing in the opening next to the staircase. She’s smiling. “Come upstairs. I want you to see something.” I nod and tag along with her up the stairs. My first footstep on the wooden planks creaks through the house, and she shushes me. “She’s asleep. Don’t wake her.” I take extra care to ensure that my feet move silently from then on.

Aki’s room is just up the stairs on the left side of the hallway. The door is slightly ajar, just enough to peek inside. Even so, Hanako nudges it open bit by bit until the entire room is in view. Covered in various tints of green and stuffed animals, it’s a typical little girl’s bedroom. In the center, the owner lies beneath her sheets, drowning in her own dreams. Her face is turned toward us, the rhythm of her small breaths forcing the covers up and down in time.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Hanako asks.

“Yeah. Absolutely so.” I start taking a few steps toward the bed before turning back to face her. She nods, knowing what I want. I take each step cautiously, trying to make as little noise as possible. Successfully managing to make it over to Aki’s bedside without disturbing her, I squat onto her level. Adorable is an understatement. With a smile, I place a hand on her shoulder. She stirs, but not enough to awaken, and pulls the sheets closer to her. It’s a simple gesture, but all I wanted to do.

Satisfied, I walk back to Hanako with the same level of care. She closes the door behind us as we walk out. “I didn’t tell you who the father was earlier.”

Yeah, she didn’t. “Does it matter?”

“Eiji. The same man I met not long after I moved away from you and Lilly.” So that’s why she didn’t want to talk about it earlier. Her first shared love left her behind.

“Why isn’t he around?”

She chuckles slightly, choking back a few tears. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

With a deep inhale and a long exhale, she starts heading toward her room. I follow. Boxes litter the floor inside, still caught in the unpacking stage. A few pictures sit on her dresser, but none of her and another man. There are some of her and Aki at all stages of her daughter’s short life. How long has he been gone?

“It’s been three and a half years now.” I turn my attention away from the pictures to the source of her voice. She’s holding a single frame in her hands, one of just her and another man. She brushes the surface lightly with her fingertips. “Since he left.”

“But he’s her dad, right? And she can’t be older than three. That means…” She turns her head and nods, eyes bloodshot.

“She doesn’t know him. She never did. I’m all she has.”

“So… I guess I can ask you the same question, then.” Her eyes are inquisitive, wondering where I’m going next. “From earlier today. You said Eiji left over three years ago. Why didn’t you call us? We would’ve been there in a heartbeat.” It’s a small lie. I’m still not convinced that I could have been there for her. It was hard enough at Yamaku. I loved watching her grow into her own person, but knowing that we weren’t going to be together pained me.

“To tell the truth…,” she answers after a long thought, hanging her head. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

She tilts her head back up to stare at me. “That you might hate me for leaving.”

I wrap her up in my arms, and she reluctantly returns it. “Hanako, you left to find your own way, without me and Lilly. We couldn’t hate you for that.” I pull away slightly to lock gazes with her. “When you stopped sending letters, Lilly took it as a sign that you didn’t need her anymore. I… I guess that’s why she didn’t want you there when she died. She didn’t want you to feel any more pain. You were happy, and that’s all she really cared about.”

Hanako flinches and breaks contact, falling onto the mattress behind her, eyes quivering with some concoction of fear, worry, and depression. “W-we never married. I couldn’t do it. And then I got p-pregnant with Aki and… he left.” As she pours her heart out to me, that familiar stammer returns. I take a seat next to her, offering only a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She doesn’t even know her own dad, and I failed her in that. Looking back, I… I just wanted to make him happy. I guess I wasn’t good enough.”

“That’s no way to think.”

“Th-then why did he leave me?!” The anger dripping from her voice doesn’t suit her, though that might be the bad memories coming back to me. I reel back for a second, causing her to instantly regret her words. “H-Hisao… I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. You’re hurt, Hanako. It’s expected.” She falls forward onto me, using my chest as a crying pillow. Wetness streams down her face and through my shirt, and I give her a couple of light pats on the head.

“W-why does it hurt so bad?” she asks, her voice muffled against my shirt. “I loved him. I shouldn’t feel this way.

“Because we hate it when people leave us.” I start drawing from my own experience with her. “Because we feel like we did something wrong, like we could have fixed it somehow if things went a little differently.” I glue my eyes shut, thinking back on our time at Yamaku. On all of our shared experiences, and how I failed to let her grow into her own person. Now she sits here, practically begging for my love. Should I be doing this for her?

I’m not sure, to be honest. Nor do I really care.

“I wish so many things were different…” My voice is soft, raspy, tired. A man pushed to the brink of collapse from pure exhaustion. I can only imagine what  _she_  feels like, having to deal with the collective loss of both her best friend and re-living the departure of her lover within the same week. Now, the three of us – Hanako, Aki, and myself – are alone in the world. All we have is each other, and this is our broken little family now.

My fingers drift along Hanako’s cheek, gently stroking the scarring of her skin as my other hand runs through the hairs on the back of her head. My forehead meets hers, and she grabs my wrist instinctively to push me away. But I don’t think she can push me away any longer. Especially not now, in this moment of weakness for the both of us.

She leaves her hand there, loosening her grip and moving the other to my sternum. Just as I traced lines along her face, so too does her touch glide along the contours of my chest. I pick up her chin, lifting her face to look into the eye untouched by her scarring. Slowly, gently, I brush her hair back and tuck it behind her ear. She does not object.

“I do, too,” she whispers back. Her eyes are blank ahead, our gazes locked perfectly. I catch a hint of sadness in her eyes. Remorse, even. As if she was trying to apologize for that one afternoon at Yamaku, so long ago. Longing for a second chance, for a way to make things the way that we both wanted them to be back then. “I… I wish she was yours.”

The bomb has dropped. “Hanako, you don’t mean that.”

“But I do!” Her response is quick, loud, ensuring that I don’t interrupt her. “When… when you came into my room that day, I w-wasn’t sure what to think. P-part of me wanted… to scream. To be angry at you.” She looks back up at me, her gray eyes reddened and bloodshot. “But I couldn’t. B-because I knew how good of a friend you had been to me. And… and because I wanted you to be more than just my friend.”

I pull her close, enveloping her in my embrace. “I’ll always try to be that friend. No matter what. And… I’m sorry that we couldn’t protect you this time.” She lets out a sigh of relief.

“It’s… okay. I wanted to… to grow into my own person. That’s why I left, right?”

I break away, giving her a sincere smile. “I’m almost glad you did. You always were a beautiful person. And you’ve become quite the young woman, if I may say so.”

A smile flashes across her mouth for but an instant. The hand resting on my chest moves up my neck, across my face, and around to the back of my head. Her eyes shimmer from her crying, a combination of both sadness and joy at this point. I start to lose track of time, just looking into those brilliant gray irises. At some point, my hands move to her waist. Her face inches closer and closer to mine, our breathing intensifying.

She makes the move, pulling my lips into hers. They taste faintly of cherries, as soft as I imagined they would be. A long sigh escapes her nostrils as we both sink into the moment, my hands moving to opposite sides of her waist. Her fingers run through my hair, extracting every drop of passion she can find. But this doesn’t feel lustful. It feels like two lost lovers being reunited. Brought together by chance, under some terrible circumstances and making the most of what they have.

“Hisao…” she mutters as she pulls away. “Am I crazy?”

“Why on earth would you be crazy?”

“For wanting this. For wanting you, even after all these years. Even after everything that’s happened, all the ways I screwed up-”

I shush her with another kiss. I can feel the smile curling into her mouth, the heat of our bodies melding together. She has her answer, and it’s exactly the one she hoped for. As I pull away this time, she leans forward, longing for more. I chuckle a bit, and she laughs along with me.

“Only as crazy as I am.”


	2. Granted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years after Hisao came into her life, Hanako's daughter is on her way to her first day of school. But she's having doubts. Can Hisao prove himself to be a capable father?

“Come on, let’s go!” Aki’s voice rings through the air, bright and luminous. Hanako and I are following behind her, our fingers intertwined, bags dangling from our shoulders. Her bright red backpack makes her stand out amongst the hordes of pedestrians, despite it being standard issue for all new elementary students.

“Patience, sweetheart,” Hanako says after her. Aki pays her no attention, still racing through the crowds with seemingly boundless energy.

“But the train station is so close!” she responds. “We’re almost there, and I’m excited!”

I let go of Hanako’s hand for a moment to chase after “my” daughter. Not technically mine. But after Hanako and I started dating again two years ago, I tried my best to take her in as my own. It was a bit disconcerting at first, knowing that this was a girl fathered by a different man. Despite all of that, I remained strong.

And I wouldn’t trade what I have for anything.

She’s a slippery snake, weaving around and among pairs of legs like trees in a forest. But that backpack is her downfall, as is the sound of her laughter after she notices me following her. I hunch down like a predator, undoubtedly garnering a few strange looks from the people around us. As if these people don’t understand the joy of having a child to call your own. I pity those that don’t.

I thrust a hand forward, but she steps just out of my grasp. I reach again, and again, clawing for something to hold on to. All it’ll take to capture her is one… little… slip up… There. Got her.

My hand meets her shoulder, and she slows to a stop, satisfied with her game. She spins around, baring her pearly whites, and throws her arms around my neck. “You caught me, Daddy!” That word. It sends satisfactory shivers down my spine.

“You didn’t really think you could outrun your dad, did you?”

She giggles. “No, but I had to try~.”

Hanako comes up behind us, her footsteps light and graceful. The professional side of her was one of the first differences I noticed after we started dating again. I never really imagined her in heels when we were in school together, but she manages to make it work. She still wears an almost all-encompassing suit, though. I suppose one doesn’t really get over physical damage like hers.

I, on the other hand, am fortunate enough to have the day off. I took a vacation day especially for Aki. There aren’t many days that I get to have her to myself, and I wanted this one to be special. It is her first day at school, after all.

“Finally decided to slow down for me?” Hanako asks, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

“I thought it might’ve been a good idea,” I reply, rising to my feet as Aki still hangs onto my neck. I swing her around to wrap her legs around my waist from the back, making it a bit easier to carry her. My arrythmia hasn’t bothered me for a few years now, with all the recent medical advances. Someone finally made a breakthrough on it, and I get to reap the benefits. Like actually giving my daughter a piggy-back ride.

We continue through the crowd as one dysfunctional little family. I mean, Hanako isn’t technically my wife. So Aki isn’t technically my stepdaughter either. I should probably fix that soon.

Hanako starts up another round of conversation: “So, Aki, ready for your first day?”

This little girl is usually quite bubbly, like most her age. But that question turns her sour. “Not really.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Just… not.” Her skin turns a bit cold against mine, and she rests her head on my collar.

“You’re not scared, are you?” I try to be playful, teasing her to lighten the mood.

“Mmm… a little.” Well, that went swimmingly. I guess it’s normal for her to be scared. She’s never had a full day without someone she really knows around. This will be her first experience with that.

“You don’t need to be scared, you know,” I respond. “You’re a smart little girl. The teachers will love you.”

Aki doesn’t respond, electing to bury her face in my neck and tighten her grip on me.

The rest of our walk is short and progresses in absolute silence. The little girl hanging off my back perks up as we start to descend the staircase into the depths of the city. “We’re finally there?” she asks ecstatically.

“Yep,” I respond. “Still excited, I see.”

“You expect less from her?” Hanako says.

“Point taken,” I answer. “She  _is_  your daughter.”

“Hey!” Aki bites. “Don’t make fun of Mom! You’re supposed to love her!” Hanako makes a fake sobbing gesture for emphasis.

“Gang up on me, why don’tcha? Just having a little fun is all…”

The girls giggle in unison, and Hanako plants a quick kiss on my cheek. Aki retches and gags. “Yuck, cooties! Mom, how can you stand them?” Just to mess with her, I peck Hanako’s cheek in return. More gagging. “Ewewewewewewewew!”

Her mother laughs with childish delight. “You learn to like them, sweetie.”

“Nuh-uh! Not in a million years!”

Hanako just rolls her eyes, still smiling. That ‘What are we going to do with her?’ kind of look. “Well, kiddo,” I start, “I think she would like them by now or I wouldn’t still be around.” She concedes the point with a grumble, slamming her head on my collar in disgust.

The ticket purchase booths are crowded as always. There’s a significant number of children around, likely for the same reason ours is. Each of them being clad in a school uniform and a red backpack confirms my suspicion. Thankfully, Hanako foresaw this and thought to buy us a yearly metro pass. Cheaper than buying them each day, too, so it was definitely a no-brainer situation.

Hanako’s office is on the opposite end of town, so she has to take a separate train. We come to the juncture where we’ll be splitting for the day. “Have a nice day off, love,” she says to me. “And you behave yourself on your first day, alright?” Aki doesn’t look at her, still resigned in defeat. Hanako gives her a pinch on the cheek. “Hey,” she continues. The girl lifts her head. “I know you’ll do well, my little angel.” She plants a kiss on her daughter’s forehead, pulling a smile out of that dreary attitude.

Aki motions that she wants down, and I ease her off my back. She runs to her mother, leaping into her embrace. “You’re getting so big…” I swear I can almost hear her voice crack, restraining that old stammer. It still comes back sometimes, but only in moments of extreme emotion. I think this qualifies.

The two release each other, and I take Aki’s hand. “I love you both,” Hanako says.

“I love you, too,” we respond in unison. She rounds her heel and starts off to her train, leaving only the two of us.

“C’mon, kiddo,” I say, tugging at her hand. “Let’s get moving.” I look up at one of the clocks hanging from the walls: 07:27.

Shit.

The train we need is leaving at 07:31, so it’ll dock at 07:29 sharp. Two minutes. Plenty of time, if we move fast. I start moving into a slight jog, practically dragging my daughter along with me just to keep up the pace.

“Daddy, slow down!” my passenger pleads.

“No time, we’re running behind!” I spin around and pick her up, thinking it’ll save time and make it easier on her. I would hate to see her physically exhausted on her first day. Drenched in sweat, and all the smells that come with it… Yeah, please no. It actually ends up slowing us down a bit, but I think we’ll be fine at the current pace.

The crowds are a bit more difficult to navigate when carrying another person. Hell, it’s bad enough on your own. I remember trying to get to my first day on the new job some years ago, failing miserably and almost getting fired for being late. All because I was too polite and let people cut in front of me. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and sometimes you just have to shove people out of your way to get where you’re going.

I hate to admit that I’m guilty of that, especially with impressionable eyes watching me, but it’s the truth. I’ve got somewhere to be, and I’m running late. I’ll explain it to her later, if I have to.

There’s the entrance to our terminal. I glance down at my watch: 07:28. Close to 07:29. Looks like we’ll make it. I rush into the terminal, girl still in my arms, and manage to fight my way onto the designated platform. I stop to catch my breath, relieved at seeing an empty track with lots of people around. Aki climbs out of my grasp, and I set my bag on the floor.

“Tired?” she asks.

“A little bit. Had to make sure we made the train.”

“Is that why you were so mean to all those people?” Dammit, she caught me.

“I’ll explain it to you later. Don’t do what I just did, always leave really early. Otherwise, you have to be really rude just to make it on time.” Ye olde ‘do as I say, not as I do.’ Great parenting there, Hisao.

The metro comes roaring down the tunnel, carrying a blast of stale air along with it. You would think that my time growing up in the city would make me used to their grand entrances by now, yet it still catches me off guard. Aki’s reaction is similar, but amplified. She covers her ears in a futile attempt to shut out the noise. The steel rails groan as the metro comes to a grinding halt, stopping with the doors aligned with the marked spots on the floor.

I pat Aki on the head and smile, trying to give her a signal that she’s safe now. Her hands let go of her ears reluctantly, making sure I’m not playing some kind of sick joke on her. I’m not  _that_  cruel, am I?

I bend over to pick up my bag, and Aki reaches for my free hand. I take hers in mine, guiding the both of us into the busting crowd attempting to cram into the train. Sendai is not very large, but rush hour is hell no matter where you go. After a few bumps and run-ins with the local morons trying to fight their way to work on time, we make it inside. I search for a double seat, but give up and settle for giving my daughter a seat, grabbing a support pole for myself.

She kicks her legs back and forth, finding amusement in the motions. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask her with a smile.

She nods emphatically. “Mmhmm~! It’s fun, you should try it.” She reminds me of her mother, at times: playing games with herself, much like Hanako’s tile-hopping in the school halls.

“I guess you’re not still worried about your first day, then?”

Her happy-go-lucky attitude quickly darkens. I’m still new to reading her; two years has not been enough to learn the ins and outs of this girl. She seemed similar to who I imagined a young Hanako would be, at first: timid, introverted, yet caring and loyal. She’s opened up a lot more since I came into her life. Hanako attributes it to me stepping up to be her father. I’m still unconvinced.

“I’m… I dunno,” she replies. “Kinda scared, I guess.”

I put a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. The train jerks to life, forcing me back into full lenience on my pole. Once I regain my balance, I try again. “Don’t worry about it too much,” I say softly, just over the engine’s bellows. “You’ll do fine.”

“But, Daddy, what if no one likes me?” Her voice is laced with a pleading tone. Not quite fear, but reluctance. “What if I do something weird and they all laugh at me?”

I’m reminded of a quote that might help here. I slide down the pole to get on eye level with her, claiming one of her tiny hands in mine. “Aki…,” I start, “a wise man once said, ‘Be yourself. Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter won’t mind.’” Her eyes go wide, her brain racking to understand the words. “Your mother and I will always love you. So will Gramma and Grampa. So will Aunt Akira.” My fingertips caress her cheek. “And so will someone you meet today.”

“P-promise?” she stammers. Yeah, she’s definitely her mother’s child.

“Promise.” The smile returns to her face, and I rise back to a standing position.

“Hey, Daddy?”

My attention shifts back to my daughter. “Yes, Aki?”

“Who said that? The ‘who matter, be yourself’ thing.”

I smile, anticipating her response. Her favorite author. “Dr. Seuss.”

“Really? The same man that wrote the cat hat story?” She practically beams at me, hands curled into fists and held against her chest.

“Yeah. Same guy.”

“I love him. That makes me feel a lot better.” Mission accomplished. “Thanks, Daddy.” I swear that word still makes my heart melt, and she’s not even biologically mine.

“No problem, kiddo.”

I watch the rotating digital map on the wall of our train. It’s supposed to be a seven minute trip to our stop, and there are about four and a half minutes left. The map twists and turns, showcasing the entire underground mapping of this route, along with our current location, upcoming stops, and estimated time to arrival of each of those stops. Cool stuff, really. I was always at least handy with computers, but it was never my thing. Sometimes I wonder if it should’ve been. That field’s come a long way, and I would’ve loved to be a part of it.

Just standing there, mesmerized in the dance of lights and pixels, my thoughts start to wander. I look back and think about all the memories I’ve shared with this girl over the past few years. It’s been a fun ride, to say the least. Each day more exciting than the last. I still vividly remember the day I moved into Hanako’s apartment. Aki was rather shocked at how quickly things escalated, given that we waited a matter of weeks before deciding to live together. We practically were already, given how much time we spent together.

She wasn’t entirely accepting of me, at first. She never knew her father, so she had no idea what to think of me. It was always just her and Hanako, two girls against the world. She had no one to look up to, no real secondary figurehead in her life. I had to step into the role. It was hard. I thrust myself into a position where I didn’t know how things would go from day to day. Where every moment was an adventure just waiting to happen.

But I’ll be damned if it wasn’t fun. And I think I’ve done a fine job, if I do say so myself.

“Daddy?” Her voice pulls me out of my trance. She tugs on my pant leg, just to make sure she gets my attention. Her large, blue eyes shimmer and bore into me. Filled with curiosity and wonder. “What was your first day like?”

I think for a moment. There have been so many. “First day of what?”

“Of school, silly!”

“Oh, okay. Hm. Well, I don’t remember much of it, to be honest. I remember…” Well, what  _do_  I remember? “I remember the absolutely terrible school lunches. I had Gramma make me a bento every day after that. That’s why Mommy made yours for today. I remember hating most of my teachers. They were all kinda mean, really strict. Uptight. I hated it. And… I remember meeting some of my first real friends that day. Some of us were even friends until high school. Until…” Did I ever tell her how Hanako and I could have met? About that day in the snow?

“Until what, Daddy?”

“Until my accident.” She cocks her head, affirming my doubts. I should probably tell her. I don’t want there to be secrets between us.

“One day, in the cold of November, almost… 8 or 9 years ago.” Christ, has it really been that long? “I looked in my locker and found a note from a secret admirer. It said to meet her in the park that evening. So I did. I went to the park, amongst the trees and snow. And a girl showed up. Her name was Iwanako. And she confessed to me. I had never had a girl confess to me before. My heart started beating really fast and… and I had a heart attack. My first one, there in the park, with only a shy girl that I barely knew to help me. But she did, and I ended up going to Yamaku for my last year of school.” I smile, because this is my favorite part. “And that’s how I met your mother.”

She smiles, a stark contrast to her melancholy mood during my story. “I always like sad stories with happy endings,” she says, twisting her shoulders with her hands in her lap. “Thanks for sharing, Daddy~.”

I can’t help but smile back. This girl is far too adorable. “Anytime, sweetie. I don’t want to keep secrets from you. Can you do the same for me?”

She nods, extending her pinky. “Pinky promise.”

I accept, knowing that it’s a lie. I know that there will come a day during her teenage years when she’ll have all kinds of secrets to withhold. But all that matters is right now. All that matters is her putting forth the effort. And that means the world to me.

The train starts to slow, coming to the first stop on the line: our stop. The platform is full of its own potential passengers, but they’ll – hopefully – stand clear for us to exit. I’m not holding my breath, though. Once the engine comes to a complete stop, I offer my hand to Aki. “C’mon, let’s get moving.” She takes my hand, and I manage to work us out the exit of the train. Hard part done, now we just have to get to her school building.

I pull my phone out of my bag and start up my maps app. Giving it a destination, it spits out walking directions. The building isn’t far, only about a ten minute walk. That’s plenty of time; it’s only a little under twenty minutes to the hour.

The streets in this district are just as crowded as ours. That familiar shade of red is everywhere on these kids’ backs. “You sure you’re ready?” I ask my diminuitive companion.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I dunno, are you?” Trust me, I’m more worried than you are right now. And Hanako even more still. This is the bird’s first step out of the nest. And I think I’m attached to her enough now that I have a right to be concerned about that, too.

We come up on a street corner, waiting amongst our fellow pedestrians for the walk sign to change. My foot taps impatiently, and Aki takes note. She tugs on my pant leg to get my attention. “Something wrong, Daddy?”

No, dear, nothing. Or everything. It’s finally catching up to me what today means: one more step forward in her life. One more hurdle being overcome. One less milestone to reach. She’s so innocent, so pure. I’m not sure that I’m ready to give that up yet.

My father always told me I wouldn’t quite understand why they struggled so much with me going to Yamaku until I had a child of my own. I can see now what he means, if only on a lesser scale.

“Daddy?” Her voice calls out to me again. I look down, and she cocks her head in curiosity. I smile at the gesture, amused by her childish demeanor.

“Nothing, sweetie. Just… thinking.”

The walk sign from across the street starts to chirp, signalling us to cross. “What about?” Aki starts as we walk. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. She refuses to take no for an answer. I suppose that’s a good thing, in a way. I just hope she doesn’t turn out anything like Ms. Class President from Yamaku.

“About the future. About what kind of young woman you’ll grow up to be.”

“But I don’t wanna be old!”

I stifle a snicker. You and me both, kid. I won’t be surprised if I catch a gray hair tomorrow morning with all this worrying I’m doing. “You might not want to, but you have to. It’s part of life.”

“Nuh-uh! I’ll stay young forever, like those kids in that movie with the pirate and the crocodile.”

“You mean the Lost Boys?”

“Yeah, those! Who wouldn’t want to be a kid forever? So much time to run and play with Moms and Dads… It’s a dream come true!”

I hope you hold onto that playful spirit, Aki. It’s what I like most about you. “It does sound nice, doesn’t it? Maybe I can help you figure out the secret to eternal life?” I make sure to add a sing-song tone to my voice.

She giggles heartily, excited by my cooperation in whatever scheme she’s plotting. “It’d be a good place to start~.”

“Well, then, I’ll make sure to have my lackeys started on it first thing in the morning.” Her jumping is so fervent that I swear she could clear a hurdle as high as my knees.

“You promise?”

“Pinky promise.” As if I haven’t made enough promises today already.

It’s not much longer until we approach Aki’s elementary school. It’s short, stocky on each end, and only one floor. Just big enough to accomodate all the classrooms needed for their students, small enough to get around easily for people of all shapes and sizes. Given that they house six whole grades here, the latter is almost a necessity.

I just stand there, at the foot of the steps with my daughter, in awe. She doesn’t say anything. This is it. This is where I turn her loose on the world, in some sense. I look down at her. She’s grabbing at the straps on her backpack, elbows chicken-winged on the sides of the canvas. Her eyes seem to quiver a little bit. I didn’t expect her to be completely over her apprehension just yet.

“You ready?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

She sighs deeply. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Alright. Then… I’m ready, too.” Not entirely, but I’ll manage. I am strong. Hanako has already let her go earlier today. Why can’t I do the same?

I take Aki’s hand once more for the day, guiding her up the steps and to the massive wooden door marking the entrance. Our footsteps are slow, not wanting the moment to end. But it must end, and not just by government mandate. It must end because this is her first step to growing up. This is her first mountain to climb.

I’m excited to see what kind of young woman comes out on the other side.

I kneel on the ground once we reach the door, adjusting the straps of her backpack, just to have something to do. “Okay…” I whisper. “You’re all set. I’ll be back at 1600 sharp to pick you up, got it?”

She nods her head, tears tugging at the corners of her eyes. She leaps forward, throwing her arms around my neck. I wrap my arms around her tiny frame, patting her on the shoulder a few times as I hold back my own tears. We stay like that for a while. I’m not sure how long. A few minutes, perhaps?

I glance at my watch: 07:49. She needs to get to her first class. I push at her shoulders, hoping to pry her away from me. She obliges, if unwillingly. One of my fingers strokes her cheek, brushing a stray droplet from her eyes. “You’re a big girl, Aki,” I say, my voice cracking at her name. My lips meet her forehead. “I believe in you.”

She smiles, and I rise up to my feet. “Now, go show ‘em what it means to be an Ikezawa.”

“Oh, oh! That reminds me.” Um… reminds her of what, exactly? “When are you and Mommy gonna get married?”

Well. That question came out of the blue. But it’s odd… I was just thinking the same thing. “Why do you ask?” I shove my hand into the bag hanging on my shoulder. My fingers fumble around its contents for what really matters: a small box, covered in velvet.

“Just curious, is all.”

I sigh, thinking I have the dots connected. “Did your mother put you up to this?” I’m honestly not even sure how Hanako would’ve found out. I bought the damn thing yesterday, and it went straight into my bag.

“Mm-mm, I swear! And I never break a pinky promise!” That enthusiasm again. And honesty, too? She’s something else.

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” I resign, motioning her to head inside.

“But you didn’t answer the question!” she cries, just as I start turning around to race down the steps. Dammit, I was hoping I could get away first.

I twist around, giving her a thumbs up. “I’ll get back to you on that.” The smile on her face is small from so far away, but instantly recognizable. Excitement. Her and me both.

The door closes, and she’s on her own. I would still be sad, but she caught me off guard. Good thing, too. I’d hate showing up at Hanako’s office with red lines streaking down my cheeks. I check my watch once more: 07:53.

I’ve got a train to catch.


	3. Harmonious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aki is 15 now. It's a big birthday for her, almost a coming-of-age. Hisao and Hanako want to give her a very special present to celebrate: she may make one wish, and they will do what they can to make it come true. Only one thing is on her mind.

To say that it’s been cold outside recently is an understatement. But that’s to be expected. It’s mid-February, after all. The snow just keeps falling, for hours and even days. Sometimes it feels like the sun’s warmth won’t ever come back again. Just a constantly overcast sky, the earth covered in thick pillows of white.

We’ve spent a lot of days curled up on the couch, covered in blankets and watching something mundane on TV. We being my husband and I. Even almost ten years later, I still can’t believe he’s actually my husband now. I remember the day he proposed: my daughter’s first day at school, he showed up in my office with a velvet box and a grand mission. It was almost embarrassing to see him just barge in the door and fall to his knee, with everyone watching. But I gladly accepted.

Right here… this is my favorite spot, snuggled up on his chest and listening to the beats of his heart. It’s a bit out of sync, not quite regular, but it’s improved over time. We have years of medical advancements to thank for that. I wonder if he’d still be here if not for all of those. He said he wasn’t expected to live past his 20s, but now we’re pushing through our mid-30s.

What is this we’re watching? Some old movie from the 1950′s, I think. It’s supposed to be a classic, a relic of a bygone era of greats in Japanese film-making. The story’s been hard to follow so far. Something about a bandit taking a woman from her husband, dueling the man to the death… but then the woman told her story, followed by the husband’s own tale, and I lost track of all the details. Hisao seems positively enthralled, though.

I can feel a layer of darkness start to fall over my eyes. This spot is just so comfortable, so soothing, and the movie isn’t entertaining enough to keep me…

“Hey.” His voice. Deepened with age. Why does 35 feel so old sometimes? “No sleeping.” Darn it, Hisao, why can’t you let me bask in the bliss for once?

I lift my eyelids, heavy as they are, and look up. His smile is warm, inviting, a stark contrast to the cold of the outside.

“W-well, the movie is kinda b-boring.” My stutter still comes back every now and then. It’s mostly evaporated over the years, but sleepiness and emotion bring it to the surface again. It’s rather annoying, actually. He told me once that he thought it was cute. I wouldn’t like him if he weren’t crazy.

“Boring? It’s a classic!” He turns up the volume just to showcase his enjoyment. I bury my face in his chest, clasping my hands around his waist. It’s almost a desperate plea for attention, but I’m fine to do nothing but exist with him.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Boring.”

“I suppose you’re free to fall asleep, then.” I’m not looking at his face, but I can just hear him rolling his eyes with that sarcastic tone in his voice.

I lift my face up and glare at him. He’s leaned back, hands behind his head, resting against the cushion with closed eyes. “B-but you just said no sleeping!”

One of his eyes pops open, his lips curled into a pout. Surely there’s a rule against a grown man with a goatee pouting about anything. “I changed my mind,” he states, turning off the television and falling into fake sleep again.

I grimace at him, freeing my hands and grabbing the nearest throw pillow. It collides with his head with a thwack. “Hey!” he shouts, reclaiming the pillow as I fetch another. Our laughter combines with the swishing and clashing of fluff-filled cloth. What’s the saying? You’re only as old as you are at heart? I think this illustrates that perfectly.

He lands a blow across my face, smothering me with the pillow and pushing me back onto the couch. There’s that glint in his eye. One of those looks of his that I fell in love with. He’s not seriously thinking about that right here and now, is he?

“Ach-hem.” And the cavalry arrives.

“Aki!” I shout, lunging forward. My skull connects with Hisao’s, throwing him off of me and grabbing his forehead in pain. He groans and tosses on the couch, putting on a show for all to see. My own head hurts, too, throbbing almost like my heart was pounding just under the skin.

“What was that for?” Hisao shouts in between moans.

“I d-didn’t mean to!” I shout back. “I h-heard Aki’s voice andIpanickedand-”

“Did I interrupt something?” my daughter asks from beside the couch. It carries that almost snide teenage tone, as if she’s making fun of us. Rhetorical is the word. Perfectly fitting for a girl her age. Her hand falls on my head, checking for bumps or bruises.

“No, dear, I’m fine,” I say.

“Speak for yourself!” Hisao calls from the other side of the sofa.

“Dad, don’t overreact,” Aki derides. She moves over to him, performing the same check.

“Overreacting? Who’s overreacting? Not Hisao Nakai, that’s for sure!”

I finally sit up on the cushion. “Sounds like overreacting to me.”

He chuckles. “Well, you do have a hard head.” Aki lets out an uproar of laughter alongside Hisao. I sigh in resignation, folding my arms over my chest and grumbling loudly.

“Th-that’s not funny,” I say softly, blood rushing into my cheeks.

Aki gives me a pat on the shoulder, wiping tears from her eyes as her guffaws die down. “Sorry, Mom, just couldn’t resist.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to take his side!” I object.

“Jealous, dear?” my husband teases.

“A-absolutely not!!” I bellow, raising my shoulders and clenching my fists, my face starting to feel like an inferno. I know why he’s doing this, just to get me irritated, because he thinks it’s funny. I don’t normally let him get this far, but the embarrassment of letting Aki walk in on us has me more flustered than usual.

“Aaaaand there it is,” he continues, standing from his seat. Well, he recovered quickly.

“There’s what?” I ask with a tone close to chiding.

He stops in front of me, and I can’t help but feel the frustration melt away like candlewax. “The cute scrunch in your eyebrows when you get angry.” And he plants a kiss on my forehead, forcing the rest of the emotion out of my body.

How can I not love this man?

“Ylech!” Aki’s retching reaffirms her presence. Her arms folded, leaning against the wall, she continually sticks her tongue out at us, making the same noises.

“What?” Hisao remarks. “Still afraid of a few cooties? Aren’t you a bit old for that?”

“Not ‘cooties.’” She emphasizes that word with air quotes. “Just keep it to yourself, no one wants to see that.” Her hand comes up to her face, eyes closed and face turned away from us.

Hisao sees an opportunity to tease her more and claims it. “You sure about that?” He moves in for the kill. “I think you  _are_  scared.” Pursing his lips, he inches closer. She throws her hands up to force him back, interjecting sounds of disgust until he finally pecks her on the cheek. Finally pulling away from her, he asks, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She wipes at the skin, trying to rid herself of whatever he left behind. “I could do without the facial hair, thanks.”

“Aww, you don’t like it? I think it makes me look distinguished.” He strokes at his short stubble. Ever the overconfident one, aren’t we? I just chuckle at his response.

Another voice joins us, this one tired and groggy. “What’s going on down here?” Our son, Jirou, stands in the open doorway beside the couch, dressed in Dragonball pajamas and attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He’s still young – not even 9 years old yet – but is already the spitting image of his father.

Aki wraps her arms around his neck, holding him tight in her elbow and twisting her fist into his head. “And here’s the last member of the rag-tag crew!” she exclaims with a wink. “Sleep well, kiddo?”

The look on his face says he wants to protest, but he seems too tired to care all that much. He’s never really liked that nickname that she’s given him. Though the difference in age almost warrants it. “I did,” he answers, “until all the noise started.” Oh, right. That could definitely wake someone up.

I apologize, rubbing the back of my head. “Just a bit of a tussle, that’s all.”

Hisao turns to me. “’Just a tussle?’”

My cheeks flush red again. “I already said I was sorry!”

He pats the top of my head, running his fingers through my hair. I can’t really stay mad at him when he does that. But dammit, I  _want_  to be mad, even if it’s just a charade. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’re still special.”

“That reminds me,” Jirou pipes up, still locked in his sister’s death grip. “Happy birthday, Sis.”

She rolls her eyes. “Gee, glad  _someone_  remembered!” Her judging gaze turns to me, then to Hisao.

“It’s not like I forgot!” I interject, pressing my index fingers together in front of my face. “Just too much other commotion…” The look on her face just screams that she doesn’t buy it. “I was in physical pain! Head trauma!” I point at the still sore spot on my forehead for emphasis. “You can’t expect me to remember anything!” Hisao is way better at this than I am. She just stands there, hands on her hips, a look of disgust on her face. “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady!”

“What tone?” Her expression is unwavering, solid as cold stone. “I don’t know what tone you’re talking about.” And yet she falters for a moment, adding a hint of sarcasm.

“That one.” I stand up, assuming the same stance right in front of her. She’s a bit taller than me, a holdover from her freakishly tall father.

“All right, all right,” Hisao interrupts, clapping his hands like a referee. “Play time’s over!” We were playing? Oh, that’s right. I guess I got too caught up in the moment. Did I actually look angry? He turns to our kids. “Aki, Jirou, head into the kitchen, please. Get the stuff ready to make breakfast.”

“I have to work?” she protests. “On my birthday?”

Jirou, having had enough of the current ordeal, grabs his sister by the arm and drags her into the kitchen. She flings a few obscenities around, eliciting a few chuckles from Hisao. I tug on the sleeve of his lounging shirt. “You realize I wasn’t  _actually_  mad, right?”

“Yeah, but I needed to break it up before anything serious happened.”

“Well… thanks. I… I appreciate it, I guess.” Even fifteen years later, I still have a lot to learn. He’s already got me beat. He can’t imagine how envious I am of him having a model to look after. That reminds me. “By the way, when are your parents coming over?”

He checks his wristwatch, one of those things he never takes off. I can’t fault him, I never took off the ring he gave me for our engagement, either. “About an hour or so, I think.” Excellent, plenty of time to have family time.

I plant a kiss on his cheek and grab his arm. “Good. Now let’s enjoy some time with our kids?”

That smile of his is infectious. “Absolutely.”

 

* * *

 

Breakfast goes over well. Hisao has turned out to be a decent cook over the years, after a little bit of training. I managed to teach him that throwing enough spices makes anything edible, and he somehow learned to stomach my appetite for the burn. It seems my children inherited that trait, and today’s breakfast was particularly spicy: omelets cooked to order for each of us, loaded with crushed red pepper for that extra kick.

“Hot enough for you this time?” he remarks after I finish the last bite of my omelet, downing a gulp of milk along with it.

I nod, smiling through the inferno behind my lips. “Mmhmm! I think you finally got it perfect.” I put a kiss on his cheek just for confirmation.

Of course, Aki has to express her dismay, “Mom, didn’t we  _just_  go over this?”

“I’m not allowed to love my husband now?” I object.

She looks away, holding her head in one hand. “Just… keep it to yourself, please?”

Jirou keeps nibbling away at his breakfast. He’s already halfway through his second glass of milk, still not quite used to my level of heat. I get the sense that he doesn’t like seeing the two of us bicker like this, and he manages to change the subject. “So, Sis, what’d you ask for for your birthday?”

His father answers for her. “I don’t think she asked for anything.” Stuffing another forkful of food in his mouth, he elaborates. “We pestered her…” I pinch him in the arm to stop him talking with his mouth full. A gulp later, he finishes his thought. “We pestered her about it, but never got anything.”

“Well, what did you get her then?” Jirou answers, leaning up in his chair and putting his hands on the table for support.

Hisao reaches below his seat to pick up her present: a small little box wrapped in golden paper. He places it on the table, letting it sit in front of Aki for a moment. She catches sight of it, mesmerized by the way the light shimmers on the surface. Hisao smiles, saying, “Happy birthday, Aki.”

I push the golden box closer to her. She eyes it carefully, with a sense of wonder and intrigue. “Go on,” I say. She turns her head up, staring at us like a deer in the headlights. “Open it.”

She smiles and goes to work on the paper, meticulous about not introducing a single tear. She’s always been this way, even when she was just a little girl. Undoing every crease, cutting pieces of tape with her fingernail instead of ripping it apart… well, at least we don’t have to buy tons of wrapping paper for the holidays.

Beneath the metallic paper lies a small red box, the top slightly larger than its base. Aki pulls the lid off to unveil her gift. She removes a small stick of bamboo, a long strip of paper attached to one end. It’s unorthodox, but I am guessing that she doesn’t see the significance yet. Before I can explain, though, Jirou expresses his own curiosity: “What is it?” he asks, reaching to grab the shaft.

“It’s a Tanabata flag,” Hisao explains. Of course, Jirou hasn’t experienced a Tanabata festival. Hisao claims the flag from Aki, letting the paper dangle above the table. “Tanabata is a celebration of the meeting of two lovers. You write your wish on the flag, and then you do your best to make it come true.”

“That’s Aki’s birthday present,” I add. “She can make a wish, and we’ll do what we can to make it happen.”

Hisao hands the flag back to her. She doesn’t speak, just staring at the flag with widened eyes. It’s as if she already knows what wish she wants to make, but isn’t quite sure how to phrase it. Maybe she needs a little push. “So… what do you want to wish for?” Still just a blank stare. She looks up for a moment, then back down. Reminds me of her when I was that age, timid and quiet. “That’s okay. Take your time. We can wait.”

The doorbell rings. Hisao stands from his chair, saying, “That must be them. Jirou, would you like to help me welcome Gramma and Grampa?” Our son nods, hopping down from his seat and rushing down the corridor to the front door. His shouts of joy echo through the hallway, “Sofuba! Sofuba!” His father is close behind, leaving just me with my daughter in an awkward silence, her attention still glued to our gift.

I ask the natural question. “Have you thought about it at all?”

She fidgets in her seat. Her voice cracks a bit as she answers. “I already know what I want.”

“You do?” I respond with a hint of surprise. “Well, what is it? I do mean anything, and your dad and I will do what we can.”

More fidgeting, as if she’s uncomfortable, sitting in a chair that’s burst into flames. A literal hot seat. “I…” She’s whispering, stammering. Just say it, Aki. It’s okay, I won’t think you’re stupid. Just tell me what you want.

“I want to meet my father.”

Did… did I hear that right? “But you have Hisao. Isn’t he your dad?”

She shakes her head violently, strands of her dark hair flying around her face. “No. Not my dad. Hisao is my dad, I know that.” She tilts her head down, almost talking into her hands clasped on the table. “My father. Biological. I… I want to meet him, to know who he is.” Well, I guess I _did_  hear it right.

“Um…” I scratch at the back of my head. I’m not sure how to respond. I made a promise to her, so I suppose that we’re already locked into this. But how would I even find him again? I still remember his name, sure, but that’s about it. He left without telling me anything, so he could be anywhere on the planet by now.

“You don’t have to answer now,” I hear her reply. “You already said you’d do it. We can talk about it after Gramma and Grampa leave.”

I nod. Just how long has she been thinking about this, though? It’s something that doesn’t just come out of the blue. And why wouldn’t she have asked about him already? Did curiosity finally get the better of her? Is she disappointed with how Hisao treats her? I don’t know. Questions beget more questions and no answers; hopefully I’ll be able to get some out of her later today.

“Hannaaaaa!” Hisao shouts from the front door. “We have guests!”

“Just a minute!” I shout back. I turn back to Aki, a smile on my face. “I’ll talk to your dad about it. We’ll figure something out.” Her face lights up in turn, excited about the possibilities.

…what have I gotten myself into?

 

* * *

 

“Wait… she what?” Hisao’s tone is a muddled mixture of surprise, interest, and distaste.

“You heard me,” I reply sternly. “She wants to meet her father.”

He sits on our bed, running his hands through his hair and letting out a deep sigh. “I have to be honest, I didn’t expect her to pull something like that when we made the offer.”

“And I did? Not a sign of remorse about it, no regrets…” I lean against the wall, crossing my feet over each other. “Just… completely out of the blue. I mean, she’s never even  _met_  him.”

“Have you talked about him before to her?”

“Once or twice, those first few days of school. I think seeing people come in with their dads made her… jealous?” I look up from the floor, noticing that he has, too, and our gazes meet. “But she’s always looked at you like her dad. She doesn’t know any different.”

“Well.” He puts his hands on his thighs, standing up slowly. “We made the promise to her. So I suppose we’d better get started.” He heads for the door, pulling it open. I presume he’s making a beeline for the office, but I follow close behind.

Our office is right next to the master bedroom, littered with papers from Hisao’s grading sessions and my take-home work on the tougher cases. The lights illuminate the floor, now one of the few lit rooms in the whole house. Jirou has already been put to bed, and Aki has retreated into her own bedroom. We will be relatively undisturbed.

Hisao jiggles the mouse, claiming his spot in the rolling chair and bringing the dimmed monitor to life. He opens a web browser and pulls up a search engine. “Can you give me a family name?” he asks hurriedly.

I pause for a moment to dig up an answer. It’s been years since I have even given the man a passing thought, so I have to rack into some of my deepest memories. There it is. “Takamura. Takamura Eiji.”

He keys in my response and starts paging through the results. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, as I expected; it’s not a particularly uncommon name. He restricts them to social networks, seeing if he can at least reduce that number down to something manageable. Going through the pictures, he keeps asking, “Any of these look familiar?”

Each time, it meets the same answer. “Nope.”

The minutes pass, turning into hours. My sense of time starts to fade, and it starts getting difficult to stay awake. Each response is laced with more exhaustion than the last, and I can – barely – tell that the hours are starting to affect Hisao, too. A glance at the clock reads 43 minutes past midnight. “Dear,” I say weakly, tugging on his sleeve. We’re sitting next to each other, and his hand struggles to support his head. It takes a moment for him to acknowledge my presence. “It’s late,” I continue. “Shouldn’t we go to bed?”

He sighs through his nose. “Yeah, I just noticed the time. And we’re not getting anywhere, are we?” The pictures keep flowing across the screen, slow enough to catch fleeting glimpses of the facial features.

“No,” I reply, mimicking his frustration. “Maybe we can get with the police sometime next week?” I rest my head on his shoulder, and he kisses the top of my head.

“That seems like the best option.” His voice is muffled into my hair. “We’ll get with them on Monday. For now, bed.” He reaches up to turn off the monitor after one last scroll. I scan the faces in a hurry, and… there!

“Wait!”

He freezes, fingertips just inches away from the power switch. I shove his arm out of the way, pointing at the picture that caught my eye: a man of about 40 years with slicked, black hair and dark brown eyes. “That’s him, I know it!”

“You’re certain?” he asks. Familiar, yes, but not completely sure. I won’t be until I actually have more information. I claim the mouse from his grip, hunched over the keyboard and navigating to the profile description. It’s full of information: he’s living in Nagoya, Kyoto University class of 2008, working in tech support for a local IT firm… it’s still a long shot, but I have a good feeling about this one.

“Certain enough,” I reply after scanning through all the details. I bring up our e-mail client, starting a new message before Hisao grabs my shoulder.

“Hana, it’s late.” I look up at him, his eyes weary and tired. “You said it yourself. I understand that you’re excited all of a sudden, but this can wait until morning.” That same sense of exhaustion starts to set in, overwhelming my burst of energy. He… he might be right. I could say something completely stupid in my sleepless daze, make this all a disaster before we even get anywhere.

“Y-yeah.” Another time for my stammer to come up: when my body craves sleep. He smiles at me, reassuring. Letting me know that this will all work out in the end, as long as we play it slowly. He stands from his chair, offering me his hand. I accept it gladly, shutting off the monitor as I rise from my own seat.

“We’ll make it happen,” he says, guiding me out the door and back to our bedroom. “We made a promise. And I always keep my promises.”

 

* * *

 

> Takamura Eiji,
> 
> I am not sure if you will recognize my name, or even know it to begin with. But this  
>  is something that I must do, something that I must try. I need to know if you are  
>  the one that I've been looking for. My name is Nakai Hanako, though you may know me  
>  as Ikezawa Hanako. It has been about fifteen years since we last saw each other,  
>  since you left after I told you about my pregnancy. Well... a lot has changed since  
>  then. I've managed to make my own life, fallen in love with the man of my dreams,  
>  and even started up a family. But there are still loose ends, things that need to be  
>  fixed.
> 
> Yesterday was her fifteenth birthday. Your daughter's. She never had the chance to  
>  meet you. She doesn't have a clue what you look like, and she doesn't even know your  
>  name. She lived for three whole years before having something even close to a  
>  father, when Hisao came into her life. I'm still grateful that he did, that he took  
>  up the mantle that you refused to weather. But it's not my place to berate you; you  
>  obviously wanted out, and I was too distraught to chase after you. And I'm happy  
>  now. That's all that matters, isn't it?
> 
> For her birthday, we gave her a tanabata flag. She was given one wish, and we would  
>  do our best to make it come true. She didn't even have to think about it. She wanted  
>  only one thing: to meet you, to know where she came from. And this is me stepping  
>  out, to try and make that wish come true. If you don't think you're up to the task,  
>  that's fine. At the very least, I tried. But she does want to be given a chance. I  
>  hope that you'll give it to her, because she's gone without a real father for long  
>  enough.
> 
> A picture of her is attached, just so you can see how beautiful she's grown up to  
>  be. If you don't respond, I'll take it as a no. But if you have a sliver of hope  
>  like I do, then we'll make this happen. Not for my sake, but for her's.
> 
> \- Hanako

I read over the short e-mail a few times, deliberating each word choice and sentence structure. I’ve never been much of a writer, and the situation only makes it harder. Even thinking about it all day at work proved fruitless, serving merely as a distraction from my appointments.

Hisao is sitting at the other computer, working on some of his grading before tomorrow. “Hisao,” I call to him, not budging from my sedentary position. “Can you come look at this for me?”

“Again?” he asks in response. His voice doesn’t change, so he must still be at his desk. “Just send it, dear, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I just want to make sure I don’t screw this up,” I answer with a sigh. “It’s a big deal to her.”

A third voice chimes in, light and faintly masculine. “A big deal to who?”

I flip my head in a panic, fearing that Aki has walked in on us. But it’s just Jirou, standing in the doorway with weary eyes. “Nothing, sweetie,” I say to him. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Can’t sleep,” he replies with a shrug. “And who’s it a big deal to? You shouldn’t keep secrets.”

Smart kid. Already keeping tabs on me for morals. “Your sister.” He cocks his head, and I beckon to come sit in my lap. I catch Hisao watching us from the corner of his eye. We’ve never explicitly told Jirou that Aki isn’t his full sister, but I can’t imagine him not at least suspecting it. They look alike, but not like full siblings. He claims a spot in my lap, and I spin to face away from the computer; I’d rather save that part for last.

“Jirou…” Dammit, how do I word this? It’s almost like how I handled the puberty talk with Aki, as if that went over well. “Your sister… isn’t actually your full sister.” He cranes his neck again, not quite sure what I’m getting at. “Hisao isn’t her actual father.”

“Oh. I knew that.” Wait… you did? “She told me that a long time ago.”

“…Ah.” I think that suffices for a response. “Well… you know that birthday present of hers?” He nods. “She wished… for a way to meet her real dad.” I spin us around to look at the screen. “And we think we found him. So I’m writing an e-mail to see if we can arrange a meeting. Kind of like a family reunion.”

His eyes scan the screen. He probably doesn’t know some of the words, but that’s okay. He doesn’t ask any questions, just taking in all the information that he can. When he looks up at me, a smile stretches across his face. “I like it.”

That’s all the affirmation I need. I smile in turn and – with a hint of reluctance – click the send button. The progress bar loads and fills, and the ‘Message sent’ box pops up on the screen. Now… all we can do is wait. The hard part is over, and we’ve done all that we can do. It’s in his hands now.

“Can I tell her?” he asks.

“Absolutely not! Now, back to bed, mister.”

 

* * *

 

The train ride to Nagoya is long. About three to four hours, estimated. Jirou has never been able to stay awake on lengthy travels, so we left him with his grandparents for the day. I brought a few books with me, just to have something to pass the time. Reading was one of those hobbies that I just couldn’t give up. And, by how much of ‘Dracula’ he’s devoured, Hisao couldn’t, either.

Aki is a little less enthusiastic about it, but still enjoys it to some extent. She’s been reading a lot of young adult fiction recently, mostly urban fantasy and historical fiction. It’s not quite my cup of tea, but I don’t expect her to have the same tastes that I do.

But she hasn’t been reading the entire trip. She just sits to Hisao’s left in our little train booth, glaring out the window as the countryside races by. There’s so little of it left these days. I can understand her taking solace in the chance to just watch and think, figuring out what’s going on in her head.

Today is the big day. The day that she will get to meet her father.

Eiji responded to my e-mail fairly quickly, confirming that he was the one I was looking for. I was surprised that he was so ready to accept another person into his life, but he seemed at least willing to give it a try. As I put it in the message, for her sake, not ours. Partially for his, though, since he’s never met her. I just hope it all goes well.

“Hey, Mom?” Her voice catches me off guard, forcing me out of my literary trance. I look up; she hasn’t moved, still fixated on the passing scenery. She must see me moving on her peripheral, because she doesn’t wait for any acknowledgement. “You never told me what he was like.”

Hisao hasn’t budged, probably because he can’t hear us. He’s started listening to soft, instrumental music while he reads. Says it calms his nerves. I could certainly use something like that right now. “Well…,” I start. “When I knew him, he was always a kind man. He treated me well, never imposed on me, and always knew how to cheer me up. Just… he was good to me. He was what I needed, a change in the world. A shining new face.” I glance at Hisao. He notices and smiles at me. I never told Aki why we didn’t get together during high school. I’m not sure I ever will.

“What made him just decide to leave, then?” She finally looks me in the eye. “Was it something you did?” I never told her that, either.

“To be honest, I don’t know.” I rest my book in my lap, cover side up, still open to my current page. My head hangs lower; it’s still hard to talk about, even over a decade later. “He just… I woke up one morning, after I told him about you, and he was gone.”

She returns her attention to the window pane. Her eyebrows are slightly slanted, lips down-turned in a cold grimace. How much is she struggling? This seems to be turning into more than just her wanting to meet her father. Perhaps she’s looking for some kind of self-identity, to fill a void in her life. I had thought that Hisao would be able to fill it; recently, I’m having doubts.

I go back to reading. It’s a newer story, about the possibility of split timelines, with a single watchman overseeing the parallel universes. In each separate reality, the same man is with a different girl. I’m not very far into it: only two girls have been covered so far. The second has just died of pneumonia after a morning run in the rain.

I’ve barely found my spot before she interrupts again. “Mom.” She’s shifted now, her hands squeezed between her thighs. Her lower lip quivers, her eyes shaking and threatening tears. She tries to find the words, her voice cracking in her stammers. “Is it okay to be scared?”

“Yes.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind. Her head turns up, her back still hunched in poor posture. I can really see the water tugging at the corners of her eyes now. I stretch my hand across the booth, reaching for her. “This is a new experience for you. But you are strong, and you will know what to do.” I manage to pull a smile out of her, and she grips my hand tightly. It’s a calm reassurance, a simple gesture to let her know that she is not alone in this. She never was, and she never will be.

She picks up her own book, mind calmed enough to read. The rest of the train ride passes uneventfully. The three of us just retreat into our reading, absorbed in the printed fantasies. After about another hour, we reach our destination: Nagoya Station. We pack up our belongings and depart the train.

Hisao flags down a taxi, and we tell him the address that Eiji gave me. It points to a small apartment complex on the edge of the city, not far from the train station. I take the seat in the back with Aki, letting Hisao have shotgun. The trip is short, passing in relative silence aside from the bantering in the front seat. I don’t catch much of what they talk about.

We pull up into the complex’s parking garage, the driver letting us out at the entrance. Hisao hands the man a few bills, and he speeds away.

Aki cranes her neck upward, staring at the high-rise. Apartment 304. Roughly sixty feet away from one of the great revelations of her life. She’s shaking in her boots, literally, and I’m not convinced that it’s due to the cold. Partially because she’s dressed too warmly for that, partially because of what we talked about on the train.

I step forward, the half-scraped snow crunching beneath my boot. The sharp sound startles her, and she jerks her head over to look at me. I smile, and she puts one up, at least for my benefit. She reaches for my arm, taking a tight hold. Hisao grabs her other arm. “We’re all in this together,” he encourages, glancing at his step-daughter with a smile. “One family.”

We ascend the staircase in unison. Aki’s shaking intensifies, and the third floor dawns on us quickly. “You okay?” I ask her at the top of the flight.

She pauses, collecting her thoughts. “Yeah.”

I open the door to the third floor rise. The walkway is exposed to the outside, a bitter wind blowing across our faces. Great, now I’m shaking, too.

We pass the doors one by one: 301… 302… 303… Here. 304. The door itself is dark green, plain and devoid of any decoration outside of the golden numerals. I just stand there and stare at the door alongside my daughter. This is as monumental of a moment for me as it is for her: I’ll be seeing her father again for the first time in a decade and a half. To say that I’m nervous is putting it lightly, and I can only imagine how much more anxious she is.

Our arms disjoin, placing her in front of the door, with Hisao and myself at either side. She inhales deeply, chilled oxygen filling her lungs before escaping in a drawn-out expulsion. Her hands are jittering slightly, though I’m not sure whether from the cold or anxiety. I know, love. I’m scared, too. I haven’t seen this man in almost sixteen years now. Not since before you were born. But that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Because, no matter how hard he tries, Hisao will never be your real father.

And you want – and deserve – to know the truth.

She goes to knock on the door, but hesitates. Her hand falls back to her side, still trembling furiously. “I…,” she mutters. She looks at me, then back to the snow-covered concrete. “I can’t do this, Mom.”

I place a hand on her shoulder, in hopes that she will find some reassurance. “Yes, you can, dear,” I say calmly. “You are not just some little girl anymore; you are a strong young woman. You had the courage to ask me about finding and meeting him. That-”

“But I’m not strong  _enough_ ,” she snaps back through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “I  _am_  just some little girl to him. He’s never even seen my face.” Her eyes lift up, already swollen red, dry patches streaking on her skin from the biting wind and her frustrated tears. “What if he pushes me away? What if he doesn’t care?”

I never really had an example to follow on how to be a good mother. Thankfully, most of it comes naturally. I let her fall into my arms. Enveloped in my embrace, her sobs are muffled into my coat. My hand pats the back of her head, and she wraps her own arms around me tightly. “He  _will_  care,” I whisper. “I know this man. He will care.”

“Then why did he even leave in the first place?” Her voice is almost booming with chagrin in comparison to mine.

I look at Hisao. His eyebrows slant downward, lips curled into a taut frown and slightly agape. I close my eyes, searching for the words. “I… I don’t know, sweetheart.” I push her away slightly to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. My memories of childhood are faint, distorted. But in her, I see a lot of what I saw when I was just a child. Of what I imagined I would be before the fire, before the scarring. I’ve always striven to give her everything that I never had. Now is no different.

I smile as I speak. “But I do know that, whatever happens, you will still have a family – and a dad – who loves you very much.”

She turns to Hisao, who has replaced his worrisome look with a genuine smile. “She’s right, you know.” He keeps his voice low and calm, hoping that it will spread to her. His arm falls around her neck. “We’ll always be here. No matter what happens beyond this door, you will have our support.”

A hint of light returns to her eyes. There is hope there, however small. It’s the same gleeful hope that I had all those years ago. I can say that I know this man as often as I want, but I am as terrified of the possibilities as she is. The only way we will know is to find out first-hand.

She raps on the door, her knocks echoing through the wooden surface. She reaches for my hand, and I offer it to her, giving hers a tight squeeze. “I’m here for you, Aki,” I whisper. “ _We’re_  here for you. You can do this.”

Her next breath is sharp, coarse, and quick. One to relieve the tension, to somehow make this easier. It doesn’t do anything actually useful, but the placebo effect is indeed powerful. Finally, she whispers, “I know.”

The tumblers in the lock twist and turn, and the door clicks open. The slab of wood comes ajar, revealing a new face: a woman around her lower thirties, with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. She looks foreign, American perhaps? “Can I help you?” she asks. Her Japanese is fine, but the accent definitely gives away an American heritage.

Aki stands there, like a deer in the headlights. I pat her on the small of her back, urging her to make the first move. “Um… I-is this the Takamura household?”

“Yes. And who might you be?” She leans against the wall, her foot tapping impatiently for a response.

“I-I’m Ikezawa Aki. Is… Is Eiji-san home?” The woman frowns, as if we’ve insulted her or her family. She turns around, walking into the depths of the apartment, leaving the door open. I assume that we are welcome inside, else she would have closed it.

Her voice echoes through the shallow hallways. “Eiji! You have visitors!”

Aki looks around at the family room, while Hisao just stands behind us quietly. I stop in the middle of the hallway, admiring a few pictures hanging on the walls. This painting… it seems familiar. I think this is one that I got him for his birthday so long ago. Yes, it is. It’s a monarch butterfly, emerging from its coccoon after weeks in stasis. He always said that I was like one of those butterflies, after I told him about my past.

“Hello.” The voice sounds as if I had heard it yesterday. He hasn’t changed a bit. “Can I help you fine folks?”

I turn my head, and his eyes immediately rush to my scars. The definitive trait. They’ve worn down over the years, from a spidery, fractured surface into a more solid, leathery discoloring. But it’s enough for him to pinpoint just who I am. “H-Hanako…” I nod. Putting the pieces together, he turns to the girl standing in his living room. “And… and this must be…”

Aki shudders, the tears that she’s held back all day finally coming forth. “I-Ikezawa Aki.” She steps forward, slowly. “Your… your daughter.”

He does nothing. Frozen in place, standing completely still in time. The woman from before has rejoined us, leaned against the door frame with one leg crossed over the other. We’re all out of place: two adults in sweatpants and hoodies, and an average family in full winter clothing. But it feels right, as if we should be here. As if this is some grand reunion, two worlds brought back together.

He slowly outstretches his arms, warm and welcoming. She takes the plunge, falling into his embrace, gripping at the fabric of his sweatshirt and basking in the moment. She has found her source, the second half of her beginning. Her wish came true, just as we promised.

“W-why did you leave?” Her voice is quiet, muffled into his clothing. “Why did you l-leave Mom like that?”

He rests his chin on her head. “Don’t worry about that right now,” he says calmly. “Just… can we just enjoy the moment for now?” It looks like her arms wrap around him tighter. She seems content to let that happen, at least for now. So many questions… but the answers can come later. There will be plenty of time for those.

The woman comes up to Eiji, lightly grazing his shoulder. I’m presuming that she is his wife by now. “Dear, why don’t we go sit down? You have some catching up to do.”

He gently pushes Aki away from him. “Does that sound okay, Miss Ikezawa?” She nods, sniffling her nose. His hand meets her cheek, wiping away at a stream of moisture. His eyes threaten their own tears. “Dry those tears.” He’s straining to stifle the crack in his voice. “You shouldn’t cry right now.”

“Then what about you?” she replies. He reaches for his own cheek, finding it as wet as hers.

“Guess I should take my own advice, huh?” he chuckles.

Hisao reaches for my shoulder, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “This going as well as you planned?” he whispers.

“A little better, actually.” To be honest, I half-expected him to be a jerk to her. I’m glad he’s being so welcoming to the idea. Maybe this was a good idea after all.

“That’s good to know. Though I’m curious about what you expected.” The look I give him oozes something along the lines of ‘You doubted me?’ He takes it for what it is. A flick of his head motions toward the party of interest. “Should we sit down and talk with them?”

A simple nod is a good enough response. I come up to the reunited pair, taking Aki’s hand. “Come on, dear,” I say quietly. “Let’s take them up on their offer.”

We take a short walk into their small kitchen. Despite its size, there is enough seating for all of us. I guess they throw a lot of get-togethers for their friends? Our hosts stand behind the snack bar. “First things first,” Eiji begins. “This is my wife, Elizabeth.” American, just as I suspected.

She bows. “Pleased to meet you all. And, please, Liz is fine.”

Hisao finally speaks. “I’m curious, how did the two of you meet?” He crosses his legs, a pose that he always takes when thinking. “She seems much younger, not to mention the foreign part of it.”

“I was an exchange student,” Liz answers. “I met Eiji, we got married, and I decided to stay. It was as simple as that.” She’s a tad rude, but that might just be her concise manner of speaking.

“And you don’t have any children of your own?” Hisao continues.

Her expression darkens for an instant. “No, we decided not to have children.” Hisao looks like he wants to ask why, but I shut him up with a quick glare. It’s clearly a touchy subject. Thankfully, he gets the hint.

“What about you two?” Eiji remarks. “You have any of your own?”

“One,” Hisao responds. “A son, he’s with his grandparents for the day.”

“So…,” Eiji starts again, his voice and eyes now cleared of their earlier emotion, “Ikezawa Aki. I’m sure you know plenty about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

“N-not really.” That stammer is really showing through now. I knew she had inherited some of the timidness, but I didn’t expect this much. “Mom never t-talked much about you.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Really?”

I glare at him – it feels like a glare, at least. “Yes, really.”

“Well,” he motions back to our daughter. “Do you have any questions for me?”

She shrugs her shoulders, stiff-arming her hands in her lap. “J-just the one from earlier.” He falls silent, knowing full well which one she’s referring to. “Why did you leave Mom?” It’s almost a proxy question; I’m still curious, too, now that she brings it up. It was the morning after I had told him that I was pregnant. He had disappeared from our bed, just out of the blue. The note he left was simple, straightforward… I had no room nor time to question.

He folds his arms over his chest, blowing a deep breath through pursed lips. “It’s… a long story.” She bats her eyes, as if to say ‘I have time.’ We all do.

Hisao instigates it. “I’d like to hear it.”

Eiji hangs his head, breathing deeply before starting the story. “Almost sixteen years ago now, your mother called me during work. She said that she had wonderful news when I got home, that it couldn’t be said over the phone. I wondered for the rest of the day what it could have been: found a job after graduation or something like that. I got off work and sped home as fast as I could, and she told me the news. That she was pregnant.”

His gaze turns up from the floor. “At that point in my life, I… I honestly wasn’t sure if I was ready to have kids. I laid awake in bed that night in a cold sweat, thinking about what could possibly go wrong, trying to figure out if I was willing to make a committment. And I decided that I wasn’t.” A pause, and a sigh. “So… I left. Looking back, it wasn’t exactly the best decision, but…” He pauses again, clenching his fists on the bar. “By the time I was gone, I felt locked into it. Like I couldn’t go back.”

I decide to jump into the conversation. “You could have always come back.” This catches him off guard, and he glances upward in shock. “All I wanted was for her to have everything that I never did: a family. A real, healthy, breathing family. You… You put us through a lot of heartache for a few years.”

“I know.” His voice returns to that gravelly, cracking tone from before. “And I am deeply sorry for that. It was wrong of me. I would change it in a heartbeat.” I know that he would, but I’m still happy with the way things turned out.

Hisao steps up again. “What’s done is done. Nothing we can do about that.”

Eiji nods, then moves to his daughter. “Aki.” She turns her attention to him. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Liz puts a hand on his shoulder, as if to tell him that he doesn’t have to do this. And he really doesn’t. The damage was done, it can’t be fully healed. We’ve patched it up, and she’s already gotten her wish. All she wants from you is to know that you love her. You’ve shown that already, in a single moment.

“I…” Quiet, slow speech. “I just want you to be there. That’s all I need.”

A low chuckle erupts from the bottom of Eiji’s throat. “I guess I have a lot of birthdays to catch up on, don’t I?” He’s smiling now. It suits him. It brings back the memories. And even though seeing him reminds me of how distraught I was back then, I can’t help but feel… happy.

She laughs in turn. “Yeah, you do.”

“Well, I’d better get started.” He hunches over behind the snack bar, looking right into her eyes. He’s like some kind of Santa Claus, wanting to grant the wishes of children everywhere. “What can I get for you this year?”

“You’ve already gotten it for me.” I can see the corners of her smile etching into the dimples on her cheeks. He arches an eyebrow again, curious about her implication. “My real father.” Her smile spreads to him, and then to Liz, and then to everyone else in the room. He reaches across the snack bar to stroke her cheek again.

Liz looks at me. “How long was your train ride?”

“About three hours,” I respond quickly. “Why?”

Her hands fly to her face, cupping each side. “We’d best let you go, then, if you want to get home at a reasonable hour.” Given that tomorrow is Monday, that’s probably not a bad idea.

“I hate to interrupt the moment,” Hisao interjects. “But she’s right. It’s going to be getting late soon, and we have kids to get in bed.” He stands from his chair. “Hanako, Aki, shall we?”

Aki nods, and I agree with her. We all exit the kitchen, our family seen out the front door. Before I leave, Eiji grabs my attention. “Hanako.” I give it to him, if only for a moment. “Can I talk to you for just a minute?”

I turn back to Hisao, and he nods approvingly. “I’ll watch the kids. Take your time.”

I keep the door open, just for personal reasons. The rest of my family rounds the corner, standing and waiting for me. Liz has left as well. It’s just Eiji and I, almost as it was so long ago. A solemn glaze has fallen over his face; his skin looks pale, his hair grayer than it was before.

“Hanako…,” he says, almost in a whisper. “I do want to make it up to her.”

“You already have.” He doesn’t seem accepting of that response. “Just by showing her that you care, you’ve done a lot to help her.”

“No… that’s not what I mean.” I cock my head, unsure of where he’s going with this. “Liz and I… we didn’t decide to not have kids. She just can’t have them.” So that’s what this is about. He sees this as his only chance to have a legacy.

“So… she’s just your last respite at having a child?”

He grimaces at me, looking away. “I don’t think so. But it’s something to do with it.” He leans against the wall again. His skin gets closer and closer to white by the second. “I don’t have a lot of time left.”

Curiosity again. “…a lot of time?”

We step out onto the balcony, and puts his hands on the rail. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small white carton. He removes a cigarette from the package, bringing it to his lips and igniting it with a disposable lighter. It twirls around in his lips, and he blows a stream of smoke from his mouth.

He pulls the cigarette into his fingers, flicking away the ashes. “I started up on this not long after I left.” Another deep inhale, another breath of smog, and another flick of the end. “It’s… basically been the death of me.” He looks at me sternly. Determination dominates his face. “Literally. I was diagnosed with lung cancer a few years ago.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.” I honestly don’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be. It’s my fault, not yours.” He takes puffs of tobacco in between statements. “The doctors said I was in remission about a year after the initial diagnosis. It came back a few months ago, more violent than ever.” He grips the rail tighter, like he wants to crush it under the weight of his hands. “It spread too fast to treat. So now I’m on my last leg.”

I can’t really respond. There aren’t words for a situation like this. “What do you want me to do?”

He keeps his eyes on the horizon. “I don’t expect you to do anything. I don’t want you to be sorry for me.” Turning skyward, he snickers. “It’s funny. You had great timing, for her to go looking for me just before I have to leave for good.”

“I guess she had someone looking out for her, huh?” Spirituality isn’t really my thing, but it feels fitting now. Talking to someone with a death sentence is almost sobering. A grim reminder of how little time we have in life.

“You could put it that way.” He’s finished his cigarette by now, and he tosses it over the edge of the patio. “Are you going to tell her?”

Can I get away with not telling her? “She’ll find out eventually.”

His lips curl into a frown. It’s not a pleasing answer, but it’s the right answer. “Yeah, she will. Just… make sure she doesn’t hate me, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.” He smiles at that one, and reaches to hug me. I grant it to him. This isn’t some sap story of two lovers reunited. This is two people, caught in a sticky situation and trying to make the best of it. Trying to find peace in the world, to grant the last wish of a girl who never really had it all.

He thanks me for the talk, and for coming out to see them. Then, he heads back inside, and I rejoin my family on the ground floor. Hisao has already flagged down another taxi to take us back to the train station.

Hisao seems to notice the weight I’m carrying. “Hana?” he starts as we load into the car. “Something wrong?”

I put up a fake smile. “Nothing, dear. I’ll tell you later.”

 

* * *

 

“He always said that he liked Western funerals better.” Liz wears a more traditional European funeral garb: a flowing black dress with a darkened veil. “The thought of burial, of a preacher giving a eulogy….” Her lower lip quivers, in turn with her hands. “I just never thought I’d actually see him go like this.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “I loved him once. I know how it feels to be scared of losing someone.” It’s a simple reassurance, something to just ease the pain. I lived that way for years until Hisao’s medication finally had his arrhythmia under control.

“Still… It just…” She’s digging for the words, proper expression for the emotion bubbling inside her. “It’s real now, you know?”

“I understand.” She falls into my embrace, sobbing heavily. I make sure to face her away from her husband’s coffin. “We’ll be here for you.”

Aki stands beside the casket, just staring at the man’s face. She only knew him for a few months before he left again. For good this time, as he put it. I told her about his lung cancer the day after we went to see him. She didn’t take it well. Only a day and he was already being taken away from her again. It wasn’t fair. Life never is, she’ll learn that quickly.

She’s carrying a small memento with her: a slip of parchment, hanging from a bamboo shaft. A few characters are scrawled on it. “To find my real father,” it says. The same Tanabata flag that we gave her for her birthday, the same one that sparked all of this madness. A quest for her to find where she came from, only to be ultimately disappointed.

“Be thankful that you knew him,” Hisao says over her shoulder. “Your mother never talked badly of him. He always sounded like a good man.” And, aside from the one incident, he was. Good enough to be father a child, for me to even consider that possibility.

Her own tears are stifled, held back by some inner motive to stay strong. I remember when I was like her, not wanting to be treated like a child. I’ve given her the distance that she wants, but I’ll be here if she needs me.

A man in a suit walks up to the casket. The wrinkles on his face and gray of his hair display an elderly, distinguished demeanor. He exudes authority, a man of faith and religion. “Ma’am,” he says to Aki. “It’s time to close the casket. We need to start the funeral.”

She doesn’t acknowledge him, but she nods. “Just one more minute.” He walks away, granting her one last wish.

She brings her flag to eye level, letting it spin in front of her face. After a deep breath, she lays the flag across Eiji’s lifeless chest, sliding his hands over the parchment. Her lips meet his forehead. Though she did not know him well, he will always hold a place in her heart. He will hold a place in all of our hearts.

I come up behind her, just to make sure that she’s okay. She answers my question before I ask it. “I’m done.” Our arms link one more time. We take our seats in the front row, along with Hisao, Jirou, and Liz. Though we have lost a member of our family, we have gained another. We’re dysfunctional, with a crazy story that many wouldn’t believe. It goes back farther than the fifteen years Aki’s been alive.

I think back to July 10, 2007. My 18th birthday. The day that Hisao came into my room, when we silently established a friendship over a relationship. Eighteen years later, we have something now. We have our own path. Something we can follow to the end, through all the trials that life may throw at us.

The preacher comes to the front, closing the casket. He stands before the crowd, a plastic smile on his face, the same one he has no doubt put up countless times before. A quick adjustment of his tie, a scattering of notes on his podium, and he begins.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Today, we come together to celebrate a life. The life of a husband, a son, and…” Aki locks eyes with him. “And a father.”


End file.
